Wishing You Well
by Von
Summary: When Alex was recovering in hospital, his school weren't the only ones informed of his 'appendicitis'. Against expectations, Wolf wrote him a card. It wasn't easy. Oneshot. Set vaguely after 'Intermission'.


Here's a very very very very short one-shot. It's set vaguely after my other one-shot Intermission. I recommend you read that first, but you know... (apathetic Generation-Y shrug) Whatever...

When Alex was in hospital recovering from a bullet to the chest, his school weren't the only ones informed of his 'appendicitis'. His SAS connections were duly informed of his current operational status. Against expectations, Wolf wrote him a card. It wasn't easy.

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Wishing you Well

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Wolf frowned down at the small slip of card in front of him. It was nothing fancy. Just a white rectangle of cheap cardboard, with the words 'Wishing you Well' inscribed in curly silver letters on the front.

The silver was already rubbing off, and he'd only just bought the thing last night.

He'd been handling it too much.

He'd bought it with a purpose, but now that it came time to write something down, he found himself at a loss.

Whatever he was going to write, he needed to do it now. They had a half-hour break before resuming patrol - possibly less if something happened nearby.

He pressed the pen against the card.

_'Dear Cub'._

He stopped before his hand could write it. 'Dear'? This was the same little bastard who literally kicked his ass out of a plane, thousands of feet in the air. There was nothing 'Dear' about that!

_Cub_

He wrote firmly, then nodded. That was good. To-the-point and managing to be both formal and informal.

Now what?

_'Heard your appendix exploded. Tough luck, kid.'_ Didn't seem quite right. Hm.

_The last time I saw you, _He wrote slowly and thoughtfully, _was the first time I realised that you were for real. _

He paused again, weighing up how much he should or shouldn't say. After a moment, he decided brutal honesty was the way to go.. or else why even both writing at all?

_At training, we thought you were a joke. An insult. Maybe a deliberate attempt to get the rest of us binned. In hindsight, we shouldn't have been such arseholes. **I** shouldn't have been such an arsehole. So, here's my belated apology for that. Sorry. _

His frowned deepened. After staring darkly at the last line he'd written - in ink, no less - he added something else.

_You ever tell the guys I said that, you'll regret it. I mean that, Cub._

The frown turned vaguely irritated - though at himself or at what he'd written, even he wasn't sure.

_Anyway, what I meant to say was that the next time we saw you, you weren't some spoilt little snot-nosed kid with high-up connections... You were.. well, let's just say 'official'._

_And you were good. Damn good. I don't mind admitting that._

_I saw the contraption you used to snowboard down that mountain. I still can't decide if it was skill, luck or some sort of insane blend of the two that got you down safely._

_Then again, that shit you pulled with the train was pretty impressive too._

_Flashy little punk._

_On the other hand, it was my team who had to drag your ass away from the crash site. You were bleeding all over the damn place and you don't wanna know how many bullets we found in your suit..._

He hesitated. For some reason, he didn't want to mention the fact that Cub had woken up for the first time, with them. He and Cub had spoken.

They'd come to an understanding. Cub had volunteered his _real name_.

Hell, he'd given his own back.

And then Cub had gone to sleep, trusting them for the first time, and had forgotten.

_Anyway. I wanted you to know that I respect your ability to do your job, even if you **are** a kid. And... _

_And you should know that you're still part of my unit, even though we work separately most of the time._

_And, uh... If you need anything._

He frowned with a sudden thought.

_Anything **important** I mean.. don't go ringing me at 5am to bail you outta jail or ask me to buy you beer. Understand?  
But if you're in trouble - real trouble - you should know that you can call on me. _

_You being what you are, I know I don't need to include any contact details. If you can't find me then I'm clearly giving you too much credit._

_Oh yeah. Sorry to hear about your appendix. I hear you're doing well, though. So, uh. Good luck with that._

_Wolf._

He folded the card and started to slip it into its envelope. At the last second, he pulled it out again and flipped it open.

_P.S. Remember what I said about blabbing to the guys. I'm three times your size, kid. Watch it._

Satisfied, he slipped it back into the envelope, sealed it and slipped it into his vest.

He'd mail it when he got back to base. Hopefully it wouldn't get lost on the way and his whole half-hour of 'make nice to the sick kid' effort wouldn't go to waste.

As he picked up his gear in preparation to move out, he wondered if he'd ever see the kid again.

Strangely enough... he found himself hoping he did.

_Fin._

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_  
_Talk about short 'n sweet! (Well, it's short. I'll let you draw your own opinions as to the sweetness.)

The line 'I'm three times your size' was vaguely borrowed from Amitai's An Object Lesson, when Wolf was explaining to a young girl just why she should listen to him.


End file.
